


Harry Potter and the Weasley Influence

by DrIsaacDelirium



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Belly Kink, F/M, Feeding Kink, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrIsaacDelirium/pseuds/DrIsaacDelirium
Summary: Harry rests after the war at the Weasley’s, soon finding out the effects of Mrs Weasley’s cooking. Returning for his eight year at Hogwarts as he was absent during his seventh, Harry and his friends find the kitchens a tad more appealing than they used to…
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1: Summer Eatin’

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a Harry WG fic, with some Weasley weight gain on the side. All characters are over the age of 18. Don’t like, don’t read. I’m planning 5 chapters for this story; it will probably be around the length of Woodstock Academy.

Harry sat back and stifled a burp, cradling his swollen stomach.  
“Oof, that was delicious, Mrs Weasley.”  
Mrs Weasley shook her head at him and smiled. “Honestly, Harry dear, how many times have I told you to just call me Molly? Here you go.”  
She heaped another generous helping of steak pie with all the trimmings onto his plate and Harry groaned inwardly. He feared he might burst soon if he kept eating, but his decade of essentially being the Dursleys’ personal servant had taught him to never disrespect adults, so he sighed to himself and started eating again. Most of the Weasley family had departed to their respective bedrooms, but Ron and Ginny still sat with Harry, working through their second helping while Harry was on his third. He’d never been so full in his life, but Harry diligently continued eating, savouring each bite as it went down despite his over-fullness.  
Scraping the last bit of pie into his mouth, Harry subtly reached under the table and unbuttoned his jeans, having to refrain from gasping with relief at the easing of pressure on his full stomach. They were a pair of Dudley’s old jeans - come to think of it, they were somewhat recent, so having to unbutton them to provide comfort spoke volumes of the sheer - well, volume, of Mrs Weasley’s cooking.  
In his haze of sleepy fullness, Harry vaguely registered Ron begging his mother for a third helping.  
“Ron, I’ve told you a thousand times, if you won’t tidy your bedroom for guests before dinner, then you don’t get any more than two helpings. Now go and tidy your room - you too, Ginny; don’t think I didn’t see your room. It looks like a Blasting Hex went awry in there.”  
While saying this, Mrs Weasley used her wand to cut a thick wedge of a rich chocolate cake that was sitting on the countertop and levitate it to a new plate, which she placed in front of Harry. Ron looked pleadingly at his mother, but Ginny rolled her eyes and dragged him upstairs, muttering something under her breath.  
“Eat up, Harry dear.” Mrs Weasley said. “Is something wrong.”  
“Nothing, Mrs W- Molly.” Harry said, hastily correcting himself under her mock glare. “It’s just that I’m not used to this much food, so it’s a little difficult to eat, but it’s all delicious so I’m happy to eat it.”  
A look of pride crossed the Weasley matriarch’s face at the compliment of her cooking, but a frown quickly replaced it. “Harry, how much do you normally eat at the Dursleys’?”  
Harry mumbled something along the lines of “enough”, but under Mrs Weasley’s chiding look, he began to describe in more detail the meagre scraps of food the Dursleys allowed him. He watched her grow more and more horrified with each description, eventually gesturing for him to stop.  
“Don’t fret, Harry,” she said, a fierce look in her eyes, “I will see to it that you’ll live with us from now on.”  
“That’s awfully kind of you, Mrs- Molly,” Harry replied, correcting himself again, “but I’m fine, really - “  
Mrs Weasley cut across him with a sharp look. “Nonsense. If they’re treating you like that with food, then they’re mistreating you, regardless of whatever else they’re doing.” An inquisitive and worried look crossed her face. “Harry, have they ever hit you?”  
Harry didn’t need to say anything; the way he flinched at the mere mention of it and the hasty shake of the head were clear enough indicators to cause Mrs Weasley to swoop down and gather Harry in a tight hug.  
“Oh, Harry,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry. Arthur and I suspected, but we trusted Dumbledore when he said you were fine with those horrid people. No longer. I swear.”  
Harry relaxed into the hug for a few more seconds before the pain in his stomach from the increased pressure became too much and he had to mention it to her. Leaning back, Mrs Weasley chuckled and pushed the slice of cake towards him. “Eat. I’ll talk with Dumbledore tomorrow, but you should get some rest. You’re welcome to come along if you want; Arthur’ll be coming too.  
Harry nodded with his mouth full, indicating his willingness to go along, before turning his attention back to trying not to throw up while forcing down the massive slice of cake on his plate into his gut.  
Minutes later, Harry heaved himself to his feet and ambled to the bathroom. It was late enough that most of the Weasley household were either in their bedrooms or in their beds, so he had free reign of the bathroom, which was good.  
Stripping down to change into his pyjamas, Harry glanced at the mirror briefly. His stomach looked like some sort of swollen boulder hanging out from his frame, packed to the brim with food. There was a slight layer of softness when he ran his hand over it, indicative of the softness that had appeared on his midsection recently. Staying at the Weasleys’ meant that he had no chores (at Mrs Weasley’s insistence) and was subject to Mrs Weasley’s divine and plentiful cooking. As a result, he’d gained enough weight since visiting the Weasleys’ to more than combat his prior malnutrition.  
Sighing, Harry tugged on his pyjamas and climbed the many stairs to Ron’s room, where he found his best friend snoring away, as per usual at this time of night. He quietly clambered into bed and drifted off quickly, the last remnants of his food coma helping him fall asleep more quickly.  
—————————————————————  
Molly marched through the halls of Hogwarts, dead set on one location - the Headmaster’s Office.  
Fierce, motherly fury at learning of Harry’s true living conditions had pulled the wool away from her eyes that Dumbledore had put there in the first place. She was appalled that the old wizard had let Harry be neglected and abused while he himself sat by, twiddling his thumbs and reassuring everyone that everything was fine. Oh, she was going to have words with him.  
Reaching the ugly stone gargoyle, Molly practically snarled the password, Arthur next to her raising his eyebrows at the sheer anger she was radiating. The gargoyle leapt aside and she marched up the spiral staircase, banging on the door at the top.  
“Enter” came the tired, old voice that Molly had once revered so, and Molly entered strong, her presence filling the room. She wasted no time in cutting to the chase, not even allowing Dumbledore to finish.  
“What can I do for you tod-“  
“Harry’s coming to live with us.”  
It wasn’t a question. Dumbledore raised eyebrows, clearly shocked at just how direct Molly’s approach was.  
“Now, Molly - “  
“No.” Molly shook her head. “I’m not going to let you convince me that I’m in the wrong this time. Harry is being abused by those awful, awful Muggles, both physically and emotionally. They’re not feeding him properly, they treat him like a slave and they physically beat him, Albus! How can you say that he has to live there!”  
Dumbledore looked suitably chastised. “There is a special kind of ancient magic surrounding Harry’s home at the Dursleys that provides him a protection like no other.”  
Molly looked at him coolly. “I’m well aware of the blood magic, Albus. Harry told me. I’ve already taken the liberty of performing a ritual which transferred the blood protection to the Burrow.”  
Dumbledore stood up faster than she thought he could move. “If what you say is true, Molly, then Harry isn’t safe. We must collect him at once - “  
“He’s already at the Burrow.” Molly replied, raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore’s shocked expression. “I’ve thought this through already, Albus. I’m not letting him stay in such an abusive household one minute longer than necessary.”  
“With all due respect, Molly I don’t think you quite fathom - “  
Molly shook her head in response. “I understand fine, Albus. If he’s going to be attacked by You-Know-Who regardless, then better it happens at a place where he has people supporting him than a place where he’s abused.”  
Dumbledore’s face seemed to flood with shame at Molly’s insinuation that he’d been instrumental in placing Harry in an abusive home. Sitting back down behind his desk, he laced his long fingers together and rested his chin on them.  
“I have made some very serious errors, it seems. I fully intended to check up on young Harry periodically throughout his formative years, but I always managed to put it low on my list of priorities, given how preoccupied I was with the rebuilding after the war. Harry has clearly suffered grievously due to my error in judgment and so to attempt to fix my mistake, I concede. I would be happy for Harry to stay with you, Molly. Yours is a fine family.”  
Molly nodded, trying not to cry with happiness on Harry’s behalf.  
“Thank you, Albus. I’m glad you saw sense.”  
She swept from the office, Arthur stopping just before the door.  
“For the record, Albus, I would recommend looking at other options in the future than focusing on the one that allows child abuse.”  
Arthur left, closing the door behind him, and Dumbledore sighed. Yet another mistake to add to the long, long list. He wondered if he’d actually learn from this one.  
—————————————————————  
“Come ON!”  
Harry grunted as he tried for the fifth time to heave his jeans up. They were going to Diagon Alley in about an hour, and he needed to be decent before then.  
With a grunt and one last yank, Harry managed to get the jeans up to his waist. What he hadn’t accounted for was, of course, the fly button. Try as he might, Harry simply couldn’t get his jeans to button. Looking down, he saw the reason.  
Pale fat was spilling between his hands through the gap, pouring out and down. Pulling out his wand, Harry muttered a quick charm for clothes expansion and the waistband of his jeans expanded, allowing him to button them. However, even with the charm, the jeans were tight. Harry gingerly extracted his belly from the jeans and let it sag over his waistband rather than be forced behind it.  
Looking in the mirror, Harry could see that Mrs Weasley’s endless nourishment had had an effect on him. It wasn’t just his belly, hanging slightly over his waistband, or his chest, which had softened and expanded, or even his backside, which had ballooned along with his chest - it was how damn soft he looked. Every part of his body was able to allow his finger to sink into it a bit when prodded; none of his bones were visible. It was… odd, to say the least. Growing up, Harry had gotten the Dursleys’ table scraps, nothing more, meaning that he had grown up stunted and skinny as anything. Suddenly being allowed all the food he had ever wanted had, Harry mused, caused him to go a tad overboard. Still…  
“Ron, does your mum ever shrink clothes in the wash?”  
Ron, who was also getting changed, shook his head. “She’s a master at household charms. I doubt even Dumbledore could compete with her on them.”  
Grinning, Harry gestures at his jeans. “I was only asking because I had to use a clothes expansion charm on my jeans today to get them to button.”  
Ron gave Harry a quick once-over. The charm may have expanded the waistband to allow him to button his jeans somewhat more comfortably, but it did nothing for how they hugged his ass or clung to his thighs.  
“Nah, it’s not the clothes, mate,” Ron grinned, “Mum’s made you fat!”  
Harry looked visibly worried as Ron prodded his belly - blimey, it really was soft!  
Trying to console his best friend, Ron said, “Don’t worry, Harry. We all put on a bit of weight over the summer - with how Mum cooks, we can’t stay thin! It’ll all melt off pretty quickly once we’re running to and from classes, anyway.”  
Ron gestured to his own jeans, where his own soft, pale, freckled, fatty belly forced his fly apart.  
“See? Perfectly normal.”  
Harry shrugged, conceding the point. He wasn’t that upset at getting fat - having spent most of his life starved, he welcomed it - it was more his friends’ reactions to it.  
‘I just hope Ron’s right about this weight melting off…’ Harry pondered to himself as Mrs Weasley was hustling them all out the door to Diagon Alley an hour later.


	2. Chapter 2: Return To Hogwarts

Ron sat down heavily in their usual compartment, pointedly ignoring the tightness of his trousers as his stomach strained against them. His mum seemed to be on a mission to feed Harry as much as possible, and although he and Ginny usually came back from the summer holidays a bit bigger than before those holidays, his mum’s overzealous feeding of Harry seemed to have rubbed off on him. He could feel that his chest had softened up a bit too; his T-shirt felt quite a bit tighter than it usually did. For once, he hadn’t grown much over the summer, so he couldn’t blame it on his height. There was no denying it - he’d put on weight.  
Emerging from his inner monologue, Ron looked over at his best friend and reminded himself that he’d drawn the long straw in that scenario. Harry’s jeans looked as though they would tear at the seams any moment, his thighs squeezed into the skintight fabric like sausage casing. His chest looked considerably larger and was likely much softer than Ron’s; he could almost make out the shape of Harry’s newfound boy breasts through his T-shirt. He knew, too, from sharing a room with Harry, that his best mate’s soft and wobbly belly jiggled merrily over his waistband, but at the moment, it was contained in his jeans, threatening to burst the button off with every breath. His face looked fuller, too.  
Across from them, Hermione’s expression was priceless, a mixture of shock and confusion. She shook herself out of it pretty quickly, however, and smiled at the pair of them.  
“How was your holiday?”  
Harry immediately launched into a tirade of compliments of the Burrow (and Ron’s mother’s cooking) that made Ron’s ears burn red in embarrassment. He’d always thought he lived a somewhat shitty life - his family wasn’t particularly wealthy, his siblings always overshadowed him - but hearing Harry describe his time at the Burrow with such glowing remarks made him realise that he was actually very lucky to have what he had. Ron didn’t know much about Harry’s time with his Muggle relatives, but given how fierce his mother had been to Dumbledore (his father had been in awe), it had probably been quite bad.  
He tuned back into the conversation as Harry was waxing lyrical about the one-on-one Quidditch games he and Ron had played earlier in the summer. Ron remembered those games fondly, but he also remembered how they’d slowly transitioned into entire days of doing nothing but lazing around and eating.  
“That sounds good, Harry.” Ron could see that Hermione was making a determined effort to skirt around the topic of Harry’s weight gain, even if it meant that she had to talk about Quidditch.  
“So, Harry, excited for the season this year? You’ll be a shoe-in for Seeker, obviously - “  
“I’m not playing this year.” Harry blurted out, causing both Ron and Hermione to gaze at him in disbelief and shock.  
“Not - not playing?” Ron said incredulously. “But - you love Quidditch!”  
Harry nodded; Ron missing the way his neck folded to create a small double chin as he did so. “I still do, but this is our seventh - well, eighth, I suppose - year. We’re taking NEWTs this year and I really want to focus on them - I need at least Es in certain subjects if I want to become an Auror.”  
Ron still looked dumbfounded, but Hermione nodded happily. “I’m glad at least one of you is taking an interest in your studies. That’s actually a very mature choice, Harry.”  
“Who’s being mature?” Ginny’s voice came from the doorway. Ron looked up as she walked over and sat beside Hermione. He thought that she looked a little bit thicker than usual, but then again, he wasn’t one to talk, so he didn’t raise the subject despite his brotherly concern.  
“Harry’s quitting Quidditch.”  
“WHAT!?”  
—————————————————————  
Professor McGonagall finished reading the term notices and instead of spreading her arms wide to begin the Welcome Feast, as Dumbledore had done in years past, she simply snapped her fingers and the food materialised in the serving bowls lining each House table.  
Harry immediately snagged a bowl of chicken wings, placing it between himself and Ron. The two boys attacked it in record time until only bones and the sauce smeared around their mouths remained. Next, Harry heaped steak, mashed potatoes laden with butter, and Yorkshire puddings on to his plate and set about stuffing his face with his monumental meal. Hermione watched with vague interest as he forwent his cutlery in favour of shoving the Yorkies straight into his mouth, scattering crumbs down himself and getting gravy all over his shirt, which he fixed with a quick ‘Tergeo’. Shaking her head in a bemused fashion, Hermione turned to Ron, but found he was in a similar situation, his mouth bulging with mashed potatoes. Even Ginny was inhaling food in record time, spearing sausages and devouring them in two bites.  
Having finished his entire plate, Harry slid a pizza bigger than his head on to his plate, not even bothering to cut slices before beginning to stuff the greasy, cheesy, fatty, meat-laden pizza into his waiting mouth. Before Ron and Ginny had even finished their first course, Harry was sitting back, hands on his paunch, stifling a belch.  
The food dissolved from the bowls and plates, leaving them spotlessly clean, and was immediately replaced with desserts.  
Hermione slid a small slice of treacle tart on to her plate, taking small, dainty bites with her fork. In contrast, Harry zeroed in on a huge chocolate cake, Bruce Bogtrotter-style, that had materialised mere inches from his face. Heaving it on to his plate, Harry tore handfuls out of the cake and shoved them in his mouth, refilling a hand if it was empty of cake.  
Ron, meanwhile, had located a bowl of doughnuts, and was taking full advantage of them being in easy reach by piling his plate high with them, cleaving each one in two with each bite, and refilling his plate.  
Ginny, it seemed, had located a banoffee pie, dripping with clotted cream and toffee. Hermione had thought Harry was being messy, but one look at Ginny’s cream-coated cheeks and sticky fingers had her convinced otherwise.  
Finally, the desserts dissolved just after the students had finished eating. Harry stifled another belch, clutching at his belly and groaning something about being too full to move. Ron and Ginny looked to be in a similar position, holding in burps and cradling their swollen stomachs.  
“Come on, Ron. The first years, remember?”  
Ron gazed at her sleepily and dazedly for a second before going, “shit! Prefect duty!” and heaving himself up from the table. As he and Hermione led the first years up to the Common Room, there was an outbreak of giggles on Ron’s behalf which Hermione quickly silenced with a withering glare.  
—————————————————————  
Harry lay on his back in bed, carefully cradling his overfill belly. He’d eaten more at the Welcome Feast than he’d thought he was going to, and the Hogwarts food was just as rich and fattening as he remembered.  
Hearing Ron stagger into the dorm, Harry rolled sideways, getting into a sitting position and ignoring the way his swollen belly sat heavily on his thighs.  
“How many questions did they pester you with this year?” Harry grinned, grateful that he hadn’t been made a prefect, not for the first time.  
Ron rolled his eyes. “I had so many questions to answer. What’s the picture? Who’s that woman? Is that a GHOST?” Why is your hair red? Are you on the Quidditch Team? Which international team do you support? Are you really friends with Harry Potter?”  
Harry was laughing his flabby ass off throughout most of the questions, but he quickly sobered at the last one. “People are still on that?”  
“Sorry, mate.” Ron shrugged. “I guess some people see you as even more of a hero now than they did before. Hey, don’t worry about it. The fabled rumour mill will start up again and you’ll be free of the stares and the whispers.”  
Harry shrugged, but privately he agreed with Ron - or, more accurately, he hoped Ron was right. He’d already gotten more than enough fame to last him a lifetime with the whole ‘Boy Who Lived’ thing; he didn’t want or need any more for killing Voldemort.  
Sighing, Harry rolled back on to his back, his stomach still too painful for any other position, and due in large part to the heavy food in his belly, he drifted into a calm, dreamless sleep relatively quickly.


	3. Chapter 3: The Midnight Feast

Harry woke up ravenous, his belly growling loudly for food. Hastily casting non-verbal silencing charms in the general vicinity around his bed, he swung his legs sideways to allow himself to sit up properly. His stomach gave another tremendous growl and he patted it, murmuring,  
“Alright, alright! I’ll feed you.”  
Glancing down at himself, Harry found that he couldn’t see very far. Creamy white fat filled his vision. He couldn’t see it, but Harry felt his meaty thighs touching his belly as it sagged between them. It had only recently gotten this big, but, he mused, that was what constant eating did to a person.  
Harry had spent every moment that he wasn’t in classes asking house elves to make him rich, extravagant, five-course ‘snacks’. He’d tried to sneak some snacks into classes as well, and while people like Professor Slughorn were perfectly happy for their students to snack in class (he’d even caught Slughorn swiping a few of his éclaires several times), teachers like Professor McGonagall were extremely strict and confiscated all snacks on Harry’s person immediately upon catching him eating them. After receiving detention for sneaking snacks into class, Harry had been suitably chastised and kept his snacking to outside of classes only. Studying was a particularly heavy time, as every question he got right, every spell he performed correctly and every essay paragraph he wrote was, in Harry’s eyes, cause enough for a snacky celebration. These ‘study snacks’ had gone from a bag of crisps every few correct answers to half a cake every single correct answer. This, along with the practically immeasurable amount of food Harry was consuming at every meal, was enough to fatten up anyone.  
As a result, Harry’s chest had ballooned into a pair of soft, pillowy boy-boobs that stretched his shirts and wobbled with each breath. His backside had swelled with fat until it resembled two fleshy basketballs, bouncing merrily with any and all movement. His thighs grazed each other whenever he was walking, meaning Harry had had to adopt a sort of waddle. He’d never understood why Vernon and Dudley had moved in such an awkward manner, but he realised now that it was to prevent their thighs chafing.   
None of this, of course, could compare to his belly. It sagged between his thighs when he was sitting down as he was now, but standing up, it sagged down over the waistband of whatever he was wearing to rest on his considerably thicker thighs, jiggling to and fro with each fat, waddling step.  
Heaving himself out of bed, Harry pulled his invisibility cloak around himself, not wanting to risk putting on clothes aside from boxers in case they ripped. The cloak itself barely covered all of him now, but thankfully it just about contained his fat in its concealing folds of fabric.  
Harry waddled all the way down to the Common Room, where he wouldn’t wake anyone up, and prepared to Disapparate. He’d been granted the leeway to do so within the school borders after his service to the wizarding world in killing Voldemort, but he tried not to exercise such a privilege too often in order to not seem like he was even more unique than his peers.  
What Harry failed to see as he turned on the spot and Disapparated with a small *pop*, his Cloak slipping slightly as he did so, was a certain redhead descending the stairs of the girls’ dormitories.   
—————————————————————  
Ginny made her way into the Common Room under a Disillusionment Charm, which she’d gotten quite adept at during the war.  
She was curious as to how exactly Harry had managed to Disapparate in school grounds, but was quickly distracted by the rumbling in her stomach.  
“Quiet, you.” She muttered, patting it and ignoring the jiggling her pat set off.  
Ginny pretty much always came back from her summer holidays somewhat chunkier than she’d been at the start - her breasts were usually a little bigger, as was her ass, and she usually had a little paunch. Once she’d joined the Quidditch Team, that extra weight either came straight off or turned into muscle. Most of the Hogwarts pupils were in the same boat as her, but to a lesser extent - being a bit overweight wasn’t unusual in Hogwarts, but the vast extent of the castle meant that running to and from classes was required quite often, forcing students to exercise more. Though, Ginny mused, clearly not Harry - if he could Apparate from the Common Room, he was probably exempt from the magical ban on Apparation.  
However, Ginny had come back to Hogwarts heavier than usual this year, since her mum had seemingly been on a quest to make sure Harry was stuffed to the gills at all times; some of that determination had rubbed off on her and Ron, meaning that they’d gained a bit more weight than usual. Unlike most years, however, her mum had forced her to quit Quidditch this year to focus on exams, claiming that “it’s more important than ever to excel in your exams!” (likely due to the severe hit the Ministry took in terms of staff during the war). This essentially removed her main method of exercise, while doing nothing about her downright gluttonous eating habits. This had resulted in her little paunch, already bigger due to her unusually hedonistic summer, ballooning until it bulged out of her tops and over her waistband. Her breasts had gone up several cup sizes, and her ass was, to be blunt, gelatinous, both of which pleased her immensely. She could do without the belly, or the love handles that were steadily thickening with each passing day, or her thighs, which were growing closer together along with the rest of her, but so far, she was more than happy with the benefits. Harry had been ogling her more as well, which she’d enjoyed, but she hadn’t called him on it yet.   
Her belly gave another resounding rumble, prompting her to get moving. Climbing out the portrait hole (and silently thanking the stars that the Fat Lady was still asleep), Ginny crept, practically invisible, down towards the kitchens. On her way, she passed several other students, the only one she recognised being Luna. All of them were either staggering along, clutching their significantly larger stomachs, or had armfuls of baked goods, or both.  
This was something that had been noticeable at the start of the year, but more so as the year went on. Given that the war was over and that the collective wizarding world could finally relax, many had taken that rather literally, spending their summers lazing around, grazing on snacks and taking time for leisurely activities they hadn’t been able to indulge in for years because of Voldemort. This resulted in many students coming back to Hogwarys a bit overweight, and, like Ginny, keeping their summer eating habits well into the school year. Students scurrying to and from the kitchens for midnight snacks - or feasts, in many cases - had become commonplace. The overall obesity level of the students had, on average, increased significantly from previous years.  
Ginny’s grumbling stomach shook her out of her ponderous state and drove her towards the kitchens. Finally arriving, she tickled the pear and pulled open the door, only to find -  
“Harry?”  
—————————————————————   
Harry murmured a ‘Rictusempra’ at the pear and it burst into laughter, transforming into a large green doorhandle. He reached for the newly formed handle, but as he did so, the door swung open inwards and Blaise Zabini stepped out.  
“Potter.” He nodded, walking past Harry while making no attempt to conceal the stacks of cupcakes he cradled in his arms. Harry had noticed that many of his peers seemed to be more overweight than they’d been in previous years; it was likely due to over-relaxation due to the newfound peacetime. It was still somewhat disconcerting for Zabini - or any Slytherin, for that matter - to treat him as a respected classmate rather than a victim to be bullied. Apparently, killing Voldemort had had quite a profound effect on how Slytherins viewed him; no longer was he an subject of contempt, but rather the person who freed them from a lifetime of servitude to their so-called Dark Lord. He’d even had Draco, of all people, come up to him with an apology, a thank you and an offer of friendship. It was… weird, to say the least, but a change for the better.  
Harry’s growling stomach reminded him why he was there and he slipped inside the kitchens soundlessly. The elves recognised him and instantly levitated a veritable banquet of desserts on to the duplicate benches they used to transport the food up to the Great Hall directly above them.  
Harry’s gaze zeroed in on a large platter of hot, gooey brownies, fresh from the oven. The elf tasked with serving him snapped their fingers and the dish was suddenly right in front of him. Given that he was used to having to reach for dishes in the Great Hall, it was odd to not even have to move during these midnight feasts, but Harry had quickly acclimated to it.  
He grabbed a handful of brownie and stuffed it into his awaiting mouth, tilting his head back and groaning as his well-practiced jaw made quick work of the mouthful and the hot, rich, velvety chocolate goodness settled in his stomach. Grabbing two more handfuls, he shoved them in one after the other, wincing a little at the temperature; the heavenly taste, however, quickly wiped any notion of pain at the heat from his mind. Despite this, however, the heat was starting to become more of an issue, so Harry quickly located an enormous bowl of ice cream, grabbing a spoon and heaping overloaded spoonfuls of honeycomb-flavoured ice cream down his throat, moaning at the cool relief from the heat of the brownies. Demolishing the rest of the bowl, Harry found his final prize - a massive chocolate cake that took two elves to carry it. They dumped the cake on to the table in front of Harry and he wasted no time, plunging his face straight into it. Icing and cake crumbs smeared all over his face and his flabby boy-boobs, mixing with the ice cream remnants and brownie crumbs already scattered down his fat, as he devoured the cake, using his hands only to push it into his mouth faster, gasping and moaning as the divine taste of each hasty mouthful hit his tongue.   
Sitting back, Harry groaned in equal pleasure and fullness as he cradled his stuffed belly. He’d reached the point in the last month or so where even after the biggest stuffings, his belly remained soft to the touch. He could still feel the swollen rock of his actual stomach beneath the thick layer of fat that coated it, but he was amazed that his midsection still felt all pillowy after he’d packed that much food into his gullet.  
Spying a plate piled high with doughnuts, Harry instinctively began to reach for it when his gaze shifted and he saw Ginny standing at the door to the kitchens, arms folded and resting on her own newfound belly. And there Harry was, sitting on his fat ass, cradling his frankly rather vast belly, covered in ice cream and various crumbs. He reckoned that he looked like a right pig.  
“Gin, look, I know that I look pretty bad right now - “  
“Bad?” Ginny scoffed. “You’ve never looked hotter in your life.”  
Harry immediately blushed a deep red, staring at the floor - or rather, his belly - as the realisation of what she’d just said dawned on him. Ginny’s face also lit up like the top of a traffic light as she realised what she’d just confessed.  
“I only - look, I just - “  
“Do you… like me?” Harry murmured. He was having a tough time believing so, mainly because the Dursleys had ingrained in his mind that no woman would ever want him since he was old enough to understand what that meant (they had, of course, completely ignored the possibility that he might be interested in other guys instead or as well; the Dursleys were very close-minded and quite homophobic people). However, he was also having a hard time believing Ginny because he looked -  
“Like this?” Harry gestured at himself, at his fat, flabby, bloated self, at the messy remnants of his binge that coated his mostly naked self.  
“Yes, like that, you sod!” Ginny said, grinning.   
“Oh.” Harry said, and then it hit him - Ginny liked him. Actually liked him. The girl he’d been pining over for years actually liked him - and not just Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, but Harry, the gluttonous, gelatinous pig who’d swelled with fat increasingly rapidly as the school year went on.  
Holding out his hand, Harry waited until Ginny took it before taking her via Side-Along-Apparation to the Room of Requirement, which at the moment seemed to be a mere Bedroom of Requirement. Ginny barely had time to say, “oh, ok” before his mouth was on hers.  
It was everything Harry had dreamed of; warm and wet, yes, but amazing, like someone had lit fireworks in his brain. Every single one of his senses was on fire - the sight of her beautiful face pressed against his, the smell of her strawberry shampoo, the addictive feeling of her sinking into his flabby midsection, the ungodly yet heavenly noises she was making and the heady taste of her slick-soft tongue dancing against his own. He’d tasted a great number of new flavours since returning to Hogwarts, but not a single one of them could even come close to how this made Harry feel.  
They parted minutes later, gasping for breath as Harry grinned stupidly down at the amazing girl he just kissed.  
Ginny smirked at him. “I seem to still be wearing clothes.”  
Harry blushed and stuttered at how forward she was being, causing Ginny to roll her eyes and strip herself naked, which in turn caused Harry’s brain to short-circuit as his gaze swept over her adorable, sexy, chubby body. He hadn’t realised just how much weight she’d gained in the last few months until now, and he certainly wasn’t complaining.  
They came together again, tongues dancing together as they made out. Ginny reached under Harry’s belly - the mere fact that she had to reach under it made her groan - and tugged down his boxers, letting his dick stand to attention. Slipping a hand under his belly, she made Harry buck in her hand, eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out.  
“J-jesus, Gin - “  
She silenced him with a finger to his lips and motioned for him to cast a contraceptive charm. He did so, eyes widening at the implication, and let her pull him over to the bed that the Room had so thoughtfully made a king-size.  
Pushing him on to his back, Ginny climbed on top and pushed his belly up with both hands, loving that she had to use both hands to do so. Leaning into him, she slid herself over his dick and began rocking up and down. Stuttered breaths, heady moans and groans of pleasure emanated from both of them. Ginny began playing with Harry’s boy-boobs, jiggling them back and forth, before latching her mouth on to one, causing Harry to buck violently. Harry, in turn, squeezed her significantly larger tits, forcing from Ginny a loud moan. Harry’s heavily fattened body wobbled and swayed as they pleasured each other; meanwhile, Ginny’s own flab bounced around merrily. They finished before long, Ginny collapsing on to Harry’s belly as she slipped off of his dick. He sat up as much as he was able to with his belly in the way and lazily kissed her, only managing to stay sitting up for a few seconds before he collapsed back down to the bed, Ginny chasing his lips with hers. After that incredible experience, the only thing the two gluttons had the energy to do was sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Feed The Halls

A rapid knocking woke Ron up from his slumber. He and Harry had stayed up pretty late last night, goofing around and playing wizard’s chess among other things. They’d fallen asleep at about 2 in the morning, meaning they’d slept in - on Christmas Day.  
“Boys! Get up! Presents!”  
Ron groaned and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes in vain, waving his mother off. She swept from the room and closed the door behind her rather loudly, startling Harry awake; the dark-haired boy looked at Ron questioningly.  
“Christmas.” He explained, causing Harry to slap his hands over his face in a comedic fashion.   
“That’s today?”  
Ron shrugged as best as he could while lying down. “Apparently.”  
Rolling his eyes, Harry pushed his duvet onto the floor, causing Ron’s eyes to nearly pop out of his head at how fat Harry had gotten.  
Ron hadn’t really seen him even semi-naked since the summer, as their extremely busy schedules at school meant they were almost never in the dorm at the same time as the other was getting changed (Harry had studying; Ron, the chess club). He knew, almost subconsciously, that Harry had to have been getting fatter since the summer, as his appetite had continued to grow and he’d made no attempt to exercise. Seeing him in nothing but boxers, though, was shocking.  
Harry’s boy-boobs had swelled since the summer; they looked to be as big as any girl’s tits now, but with no natural tissue - just wobbling, pillowy fat. His sides were covered in creases and flabby rolls, the thickest of which - his love handles - likely poured over his waistband.  
Rolling sideways, Harry managed after a few tries to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position. From where he was lying, Ron could see Harry’s belly bulge, jiggle and sag between his ridiculously thick thighs as it spread out in every direction. Gravity immediately pulled his plump male tits down onto his belly; Ron could also see Harry’s ass flatten into a fatty puddle of flesh as his likely tremendous weight pressed down on it. He yawned, his neck flattening out to look almost skinny before the yawn finished and that not-so-little pouch of fat folded into several distinct extra chins. The thickness of Harry’s upper arms became apparent as he scratched his stomach, letting loose another gigantic yawn, and could have fooled Ron into thinking it was muscle had Harry’s arm not jiggled with the movement.  
Struggling to sit up, Ron realised that he was in no position to criticise Harry. Looking down, he saw that the pale, freckled, fatty belly that he’d developed over the summer had ballooned into a soft, heavy mass that jiggled merrily with the slightest movement. Pawing at his chest, he felt the soft flab of his own burgeoning boy-boobs, patterned with freckles and wobbling slightly with each breath. His thighs were pressed tightly together, though his belly was starting to push them apart, demanding that room be made for it. If he craned his neck just so, causing his double chin to become even more pronounced, he could see his ass bulging outwards below him.  
Ron hadn’t really noticed at the time, given how apparently busy seventh (technically eighth) year was, but thinking back on the first half of the school year, he realised just how much he’d been eating. Constantly summoning house elves for snacks, staying in the Great Hall hours after everyone else had left at mealtimes during the weekend and even sneaking down to the kitchens once or twice (okay, many times) for a midnight ‘snack’. Although he wasn’t alone in the latter indulgence, as he passed a steady trickle of students coming from/going to the kitchens, the number of them steadily increasing as time went on and Hogwarts’ students collectively got fatter. Ron was bigger than most, however; the cause likely a childhood of being fed rich, fattening meals for lunch and dinner, and he wasn’t anywhere near as big as Harry.  
Someone, presumably his mother, began rapping on the door again and Ron called out a hasty “coming!” Hoisting himself up, he made his way over to his Christmas clothes - sweatpants, a T-shirt and a stretchy jumper. Fully aware of his recently ballooning weight, Ron had taken all of his clothes about a week ago and cast expansion clothes on all of them. He didn’t think they’d fit Harry - hell, they were even a bit snug on himself - but they’d do.  
Speaking of Harry, he waddled over to similar attire, having taken several tries to get out of bed. Tugging on the laughably tight clothing, it was very apparent to both boys that it didn’t fit. The T-shirt was stretched almost transparent over his jiggling boy-boobs - and nothing else, meaning that his belly was free to sag down to his thighs. The sweatpants looked as though they barely fitted one leg, let alone two; the jumper was somehow even more laughable than his T-shirt.   
Screwing his eyes shut, Harry concentrated and his clothes began grow until they fit his flabby frame. Ron’s eyes widened at the impressive display of wandless magic, nudging Harry once he was done.  
“Ready for presents?”  
Harry nodded, grinning, and waddled through the door. As he went, Ron saw Harry’s significantly widened ass brush the doorframe; following him, Ron felt his own bloated backside lightly brush the doorway, but shrugged it off as the two obese friends waddled downstairs to find everyone else already awake. Harry sat down heavily next to Ginny, the couch creaking slightly underneath him, while Ron snagged the last remaining beanbag chair.  
Presents were passed around jovially; Ron thanked Bill enthusiastically for the silver earrings, grinning to himself at the disapproving glare their mother levelled at his suddenly sheepish brother. Thankfully, his mum had knitted him a scarf rather than a jumper this year. He wasn’t sure if even the oversized cardigans she usually made would fit his much fatter frame. Ripping open a particularly large box, Ron gasped in amazement at the Quidditch playing field model from Harry.  
“Mate - holy - “  
Harry smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the board. “I wanted to compensate for us not being able to play Quidditch in person this year, so I thought this would be a good compromise. It’s kind of a cross between wizard’s chess and Quidditch, watch - “  
Harry snapped his chubby fingers and the miniature players started hovering, awaiting instructions.  
“Thanks, mate!” Ron exclaimed. “I hope this was cheap!”  
Harry nodded. “Surprisingly, yes, but then again, it was just a Quidditch board when I bought it. I had to do a tricky bit of magic to get the players to behave like wizard’s chess’ pieces.”  
Ron slowly shook his head in disbelief. “Honestly, Harry, I could kiss you right now.”  
Harry laughed, Ginny mock glaring at him before curling up and snuggling into Harry’s likely extremely soft and comfortable belly.  
The three of them sat around, playing with Ron’s new Quidditch board and eating mince pies, until his mum, who’d left after they finished opening presents, shouted,  
“Lunch!”  
Ron looked on with interest as Ginny helped Harry get up from the couch so he could waddle through to the dining room for Christmas lunch. He knew from that morning just how much fatter Harry had gotten since the summer, but he hadn’t really noticed that Ginny had also packed on quite a few pounds. Her stomach was spilling out of her top, which was stretched so thin over her chest that it essentially served the same purpose as the bra underneath. Her jean shorts looked like they were splitting at the seams; Ron could see when she followed Harry out of the living room that they’d slipped down far enough to reveal a good portion of her apparently gelatinous ass and the top of her pants. The meaty trunks that her thighs had swelled into rubbed against each other as she walked - Ginny clearly wasn’t used to waddling yet.  
Frowning with mild brotherly concern, Ron heaved himself up, tugged his top down in a somewhat vain attempt to cover his belly and waddled after his best friend and his sister. His mind was no longer on Ginny’s weight gain but instead the lunch that awaited him in the dining room, sending heavenly smells all the way through to the living room.  
By the time Ron had reached the dining table, Harry and Ginny had already taken chairs conveniently close to the truly magnificent turkey and made a pretty sizeable dent in the extremely generous portions that his mum had heaped onto their plates. As Ron sat down, his mum piled his own plate high with turkey, potatoes (both roast and mashed) and Yorkshire puddings. She motioned to the vegetables, but Ron shook his head discreetly, indicating that he was fine with the meat and carbs on his plate and harboured no desire for vegetables.  
He began devouring his Christmas lunch, making conversation during the rare occasions when his mouth wasn’t bulging with food. While he was ploughing through his third helping, gravy dribbling down his chins and the heavenly taste of turkey coating his tongue, he saw his mother heap a fifth helping onto Harry’s plate and a third onto Ginny’s.  
Once everyone had finished their meal (Ron forcing down the last of his fourth helping), Ron’s mum levitated a truly enormous Yule log from the kitchen onto the dining table, along with a knife. Setting it down, she cut a massive slice for Harry and slightly smaller slices for Ron and Ginny before she started asking how much people wanted.  
Groaning, Ron forced down bite after bite. The taste was divine, as always, but Ron was packed to the gills with Christmas lunch, not to mention the veritable mountain of snacks he and Harry had snuck last night. As such, his stomach, usually soft and wobbly to the touch, was now an angry pink colour, packed so tightly with food that it was like some sort of rock hard boulder strapped to his abdomen.  
Sitting back, Ron placed a hand on his swollen belly, belching and groaning in slight pain at how overfull he was, all while ignoring how good it felt, as well as the fact that he was standing to attention under his belly. Across the table, Harry was rubbing circles into the wobbling fat of his belly, which was somehow still soft and pliant. Ginny sat next to him, one hand squeezing her own belly fat, the other curled around her boyfriend’s back and gripping one of Harry’s love handles.  
Ron’s mum performed a tempus charm to determine the time and shooed them all upstairs to change into their dress robes. The three of them staggered upstairs, whimpering and cradling their full-to-bursting bellies.   
“God, I don’t think Mum’s ever made us that much food.” She managed to wheeze out. “I’m stuffed.”  
Ron nodded, then frowned. “Isn’t there supposed to be some sort of buffet at the Ball tonight?”  
Harry smacked his forehead in annoyance. “I forgot about that! I was looking forward to it, too!”  
Ron patted him on the arm. “Hey, there’s still loads of time, mate. I’m sure you’ll digest at least some of that lunch before we go.”  
Conceding the point, Harry bid farewell to Ginny as he and Ron made their way to Ron’s room.  
After lying on their beds for about an hour, digesting, the two of them heaved themselves up and started squeezing their enormously fattened bodies into the dress robes they’d bought in August.  
“Dammit!”  
“C’mon!”  
“FIT!”  
*rrrrrip*  
*rip*  
Harry and Ron stood there, practically fully naked, their dress robes in tatters on the floor around their feet.  
Harry’s belly hung down over his waistband and swelled outwards from his torso, the bottom of it coming to rest on his thighs. His soft, pillowy boy boobs heaved with each laboured breath, jiggling whenever he exhaled. His gelatinous ass sagged outwards in all directions behind him, bulging and wobbling. His meaty thighs were pressed tightly together, likely forcing him to waddle. He looked much like Ron, in fact, but with bigger tits, a bigger belly and no freckles speckled all over the expanse of his pale flab.  
“Harry,” Ron said, “we need to start losing weight. This is getting out of hand, mate.”  
Harry hesitated, then shrugged. “Or we could just keep eating. Keep getting fatter.” He replied quietly, placing a chubby hand on his enormous belly and giving it a shake.  
Ron quietly moaned to himself as the image of himself bigger, fatter, softer entered his head. Paired with his hard-on from rubbing his stuffed belly earlier… did he… like this?  
“Besides,” Harry said, gesturing with one thick arm to the fabric scattered around them, “we can’t exactly attend the Ball now.”  
“Mum?” Ron bellowed, grinning. “I think we’ll have to miss the ball!”  
—————————————————————  
“So they just… ripped?”  
Hermione stared in disbelief at her two best friends, who at the moment had blankets draped over them that did absolutely nothing to hide how much weight they’d gained.  
Of course, Hermione herself wasn’t doing herself any favours with the skinny jeans and slightly cropped top she was wearing. Her flabby, pale belly rolled over her waistband when she sat, covering her fly button, and her shirt wasn’t able to contain her breasts well at all. It seemed as though a lifetime of studying, snacks and minimal exercise had finally started add up, though nowhere near as much as Harry or Ron as she hadn’t actively been binging.   
“Yup.” Ron said, shrugging. “Mum got them in August, so we probably outgrew them.”  
“Got too fat for them, more like.” Ginny grinned from the doorway. Her hips were significantly wider, her breasts were a lot bigger, her ass was endlessly soft and her belly pressed tightly against her shirt and sagged down to cover the front of the very short shorts that were squeezed over her flabby rump.  
Ron, looking sheepish, slapped his belly, sending waves rippling through himself. “I may have gained a little weight, yeah, but you can’t talk! Look at this!”  
He leaned forward as much as he could and prodded his sister in the belly, watching as his finger sank in to it before bouncing out again. She swatted his hand away and patted her swollen stomach.  
“So? I like it.”  
Ron rolled his eyes and turned back to Hermione, only to find her standing by the doorway, motioning for him to follow her. Heaving himself to his feet, he waddled out of the room to the hallway, ignoring how his ass brushed the doorway as he went through. Ron waddled after Hermione, having to make her stop several times so he could catch his breath. Eventually, they left the Burrow and sat down in the tiny forest that surrounded their small Quidditch pitch.  
Ron gestured at her. “Go on, then. What did you want to talk about?”  
Hermione fidgeted, looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself.  
“Ron, you and Harry… you’ve gained a lot of weight this year. I don’t know why; I don’t know what changed, but I just wanted to make sure everything’s ok.”  
Ron grabbed handfuls of belly fat and shook his belly, grinning. “This? I guess I’ve just been eating a lot more and not really exercising, so I’ve put on some weight. I don’t really mind, though; it’s kinda nice being all soft.”  
Hermione looked down at herself and lifted her shirt, revealing her small, fatty potbelly bulging against her fly button. Prodding it, she shrugged, saying,  
“I can see some of the appeal. But really, you’re okay with this?”  
She leaned over to Ron and placed a hand on his belly, watching in wonder as it sank in. Ron had always had a bit of a crush on Hermione, but feeling her hand sink into his soft, flabby midsection felt better than he could ever have anticipated. He suspected Hermione recognised his reaction, as she was blushing profusely and staring at the ground - but interestingly, she didn’t move her hand.  
Ron took her other hand and placed it on his belly, groaning as she squeezed the malleable flesh of his belly. Hermione’s hands slid up to his moobs, wobbling and squeezing them, drawing a moan from their owner. In return, Ron’s hands found their way onto Hermione’s chubby little potbelly, massaging the soft flab between his hands. Grinning, Ron leaned in, his mouth gently caressing hers. Hermione deepened the kiss, sliding so close to him that she was pressed up against his belly.  
After a while, the pair broke apart; Hermione was breathing heavily and Ron was full-on red-faced wheezing. Clearly, when Ron had said he’d ‘not really’ been exercising, he’d actually not been exercising at all.  
“Wanna (*wheeze*) go back?”  
Hermione stumbled to her feet and turned back to help a very exhausted Ron up, intentionally slowing her walking pace so he didn’t have to waddle too fast.   
On their way back to the Burrow, Hermione placed a hand on Ron’s arm to halt him. “I know that we’ve established that this is ok,” she said, poking his belly and eliciting a chuckle, “but is this ok?”  
Hermione patted her own belly, watching with interest as it jiggled.  
Ron smirked. “No, it’s not ok. It’s far too small.”  
She hit him playfully on the arm to mask her relief and surprise and they kept going, drawn into the kitchen by the heavenly smells of dinner.


	5. Chapter 5: Can’t Stop The Feeding

“RISE AND SHINE, SUNSHINE! IT’S TIME FOR - “  
“Reducto!”  
A jet of purple light flew across the dormitory and hit the Wake-Up Welcome that Hermione had forgotten to turn off the night before. Looking across the room at where the spell had come from, she saw Ginny drop her wand back on her nightstand and pull the covers back over herself as she spoke from behind them:  
“I swear to Merlin, if you use that bloody Wake-Up thing again, I’m hexing you into next week.”  
Hermione hastily professed her surrender, promising to help Ginny plan retribution against George later. Despite the somewhat early rise, she decided to get up regardless - she’d have a monopoly on the Great Hall.  
It took her a few tries, as she still wasn’t used to being this big, but Hermione managed to get into a sitting position. She gazed lovingly and lustfully at her soft, round, heavy stomach, watching as it swelled out and down, nudging her thighs apart to make room for itself. She couldn’t see very much of it, however, as her voluminous bosom filled a lot of her vision. Her hands sank into her bulging belly, eliciting a soft moan as she kneaded it between her chubby fingers.  
The months since Christmas had seen her weight balloon and her lifestyle become one of lazing around and eating in the rare instances that she wasn’t studying. Even studying wasn’t food-free, as she’d adopted her age-old policy of snacking during it, the only difference being that her snacks had gotten progressively more extravagant as the year went on.  
Hermione had always been a little chubby. Spending her entire life on schoolwork while making no attempt at exercising had meant that she always had a little wobble to her belly; a little jiggle to her ass. She’d never thought about it much, though, until this year.   
N.E.W.T.s were this year, and so she’d put her nose to the grindstone with more vigour than ever. In addition to that, however, Harry and Ron seemed to have packed on dozens of pounds over the summer. They made no attempt to lose their new flab and so their eating habits began to rub off on Hermione. Eventually, it stopped being surprising when she found herself halfway through a cake, or having eaten an entire platter of bacon. It also stopped being a shock after a while when she couldn’t button her jeans, or her bra wouldn’t fit; she’d gotten quite adept at clothes expansion charms this year as a result.  
Christmas, though, had changed everything.  
Not only had she found out that Harry and Ginny both loved their new weight, and that Ron did as well, but also that Ron liked her - and wanted her bigger. It had been equally surprising how arousing she’d found her own weight gain, which had spurred her to finally put an effort into something other than studying. She’d grown softer, heavier and fatter in the months after Christmas - but she wasn’t the only one.  
Looking over at Ginny, Hermione saw as her best friend threw off her duvet that Ginny had ballooned even faster than her. Ginny’s belly was about the same size as hers, but her breasts were plump and enormous, sitting heavily on her fat gut. Her ass was truly vast, however; two giant orbs of fat that sat atop the two meaty trunks of her thighs. Ginny‘s natural curves had only been accentuated by her weight gain, whereas Hermione seemed to have put it on all over.  
Ginny heaved herself to her feet, casting a frictionless charm on her inner thighs before waddling to her trunk, pulling out a school uniform that had been expanded so many times that the school logo on the left breast was warped beyond recognition. Hermione’s school uniform, she realised as she struggled into it, wasn’t much different, but it was a bit less warped than Ginny’s.  
They got dressed without too much trouble and Hermione motioned to the staircase. Just as they reached the Common Room, however, a muffled BOOM emanated from the boys’ dormitories.   
Glancing at each other, the two girls had the same thought and dashed as quickly as they were able (which was pretty slow) up the boys’ stairs. Ginny’s globular ass bounced around wildly as she jogged slowly up the stairs and Hermione found herself wishing that she’d thought to cast a frictionless charm on her own thighs as she struggled up the stairs after the redhead.  
The girls burst into the boys’ dorm, red-faced and wheezing, to find Ron worriedly casting basic Healer check-up charms on Harry, who was lying in the middle of the dorm, a mountain of quivering fat.  
While Ginny and Hermione had swelled exponentially, they had nothing on the boys. Ron’s belly hung down to his knees, his plump, saggy boy-boobs sitting atop his enormous stomach like sacks of fat. He had a plethora of extra chins swaying with every breath he took and every word he said, coupling with his rounded, chubby cheeks to make his head almost entirely round. His thighs looked sandwiched together and his ass was visible on either side of his vast belly, it was that wide.  
Even Ron, however, was downright skinny compared to Harry. After Ron finished casting and declared Harry safe to move, the three of them levitated him back onto his feet and Hermione gave him a once-over.  
Harry was so fat that at this point, he looked like a fleshy balloon with arms, legs and a head. His belly cascaded down to his ankles, rippling and jiggling with each slow, lazy step - the only reason he could still walk was due to a permanent balancing charm he’d ingrained into a small pendant that rested on his heavily fattened chest. Speaking of which, Hermione was fairly certain that Harry’s flabby boy-boobs that jiggled with each breath were bigger than Ginny’s tits, which was saying something, given that she’d outgrown bras entirely. Harry’s gelatinous ass was also downright huge, forcing him to Apparate through doorways rather than risk getting stuck in them. He couldn’t turn his head very far due to the thick ring of fat that encased it. Hermione honestly had no idea how he walked, even with the balancing charm, as his thighs were pressed so tightly together that it was a miracle he could unstick them at all.  
“Hey, baby,” Ginny cooed, resting a hand on Harry’s enormous upper arm, “you okay?”  
Harry chuckled, patting his belly. “I tried to get up too fast; I forgot that this monster was as big as it is.”  
“Not big enough, though.” Ginny smirked, pushing Harry back over to his bed. Ron and Hermione discreetly left, pointedly ignoring the moaning coming from behind them.  
“You wanna - “  
“My dorm.” Hermione said. “Now.”  
Grinning, Ron followed Hermione there, allowing her to levitate him up the stairs so he didn’t activate them. Squeezing through the widened dorm door, Ron closed it behind them, pressing Hermione against it. She gasped into his mouth as it met hers and his hands began exploring her fatty, endlessly soft body. He slapped and jiggled her belly in his hands, groaning as her own fattened fingers gripped his wobbly boy-boobs. She pushed back, guiding him down onto her bed as she clambered on top, her belly and tits hanging down onto his like clothes hanging from a clothesline. Leaning into his fat, she pushed his belly up with one arm as she hefted her own in the other, trying to find a comfortable position to slip over his dick. She found it eventually and began rocking up and down, moaning loudly as she felt Ron’s fattened frame jiggling in sync with her own. They both finished embarrassingly quickly, their minds flooded with pleasure as they cried out each other’s names. Hermione collapsed onto Ron’s stomach, resting her head on his moobs. They lay there, content, until their bellies started grumbling.  
—————————————————————  
Ginny saw her brother and her best friend slip out of the room out of the corner of her eye as she pushed Harry back onto his bed, adoring how all of him wobbled to and fro until she stilled him by climbing on top of him. As much as they both enjoyed the 69 position, they were both far, far too fat for it, so they were forced to take it in turns. They’d tried traditional sex a few times, but they quickly found that they were too fat for that, too.  
Ginny positioned herself on Harry’s chest, noting how her weight on top of his heavy boy-boobs caused him to start breathing faster. She helped him lift his head up slightly and lifted her belly up, letting it slump back down on top of his head once his tongue was inside her.  
Ginny threw her head back and cried out, groaning in pleasure as Harry ate her out. Unable to resist, she started rocking her hips back and forth, heightening her pleasure as she felt her ass fat jiggling Harry’s vast quantities of belly fat. It didn’t take long before she was shouting Harry’s name and soon after clambering off of him.  
Harry gestured to his underbelly, where he was fattest, and used wandless, non-verbal magic to lift his enormous belly up enough to allow Ginny access to his dick, an inch or so of which had been engulfed with fat. There was still, however, plenty of length for her to take in her mouth, so she did so. Harry shuddered with pleasure as she slid her warm, wet mouth up and down his dick, setting his endlessly flabby body jiggling, causing his moans to reach new pitches. She greedily lapped up his come when he finished, struggling out from underneath his belly and standing with a little magical help from her boyfriend.  
Ginny helped Harry stand and together, they waddled out of the dorm and down to the Common Room, where Harry Apparated them both to the Great Hall, remembering at the last second to Summon their clothes and dress them both in an instant.   
Waddling into the Great Hall, Ginny grinned at the silence that greeted them, an added benefit of coming to breakfast this early. They both sat down at the Gryffindor table, where the long benches had been replaced with individual, magically reinforced chairs to account for how big some of the students had gotten.  
Harry piled pancakes high on his plate, drowned them in syrup and began fisting them straight into his mouth, ignoring the cutlery beside his plate. Ginny took one of the many bowls of sausages and placed the bowl on the plate in front of her, moaning quietly as she bit into each sausage and the hot, fatty grease slid down her throat. Harry, too, was making ungodly noises as he stuffed himself silly, getting syrup and various other spreads all over himself. Spotting a huge jar of Nutella, Harry Summoned it from halfway down the table and began digging in with a spoon. Ginny, meanwhile, was spraying whipped cream straight into her mouth and groaning in pleasure as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful.  
When they were about halfway done, meaning about 5 times what they would have eaten in years past, the rest of the Hogwarts students, including Ron and Hermione, began trickling into the Great Hall and sitting their fat asses down before beginning to shovel food into their increasingly fat faces.   
The Golden Trio and Ginny weren’t the only students that had continued to get fatter as the year progressed. The trend of lazy, gluttonous behaviour carried over from summer had persisted, resulting in the majority of Hogwarts’ pupils eating their way into obesity as the year drew to a close. Looking around the Hall, Ginny saw bellies bulging out of tops, trousers unbuttoned to allow fat to ooze out of them, shirts stretched tight over breasts and boy-boobs alike and extra chins and jowls wobbling as the students feasted. Even Draco Malfoy looked significantly plumper, chugging chocolate milk, with his two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, looking veritably immobile either side of him.  
Turning back to her friends, Ginny took Harry’s hand and smiled at them.  
“This has been a great year.”  
“The best.” Harry agreed through a thick mouthful of doughnuts, with Ron proclaiming “hear, hear” through an equally thick mouthful of bacon. Hermione, who was slightly more polite, merely nodded her assent. Ginny looked around at her friends, the very picture of fat and happy, and sighed in contentment.   
All was well.


End file.
